By daily excursions among the sloping vine-clad hills I soon made
myself familiar with Kakheti, the garden of Georgia; at Kodalo I had
shared the munificent hospitality of the Andronikovs, at Bakurtsikhe
that of the Vachnadzes; but I had never been in the wild country beyond
the Alazana, and it was with pleasure that I accepted the invitation
of the Princes Vachnadze to accompany them on their yearly visit to
their estates at Kartuban, on the River Kabalo, at the foot of the
mountains on the other side of the plain.
Accordingly, on a certain bright summer morning our cavalcade might
have been seen winding down the steep main street of Signakh. The first
halting-place was to be Bakurtsikhe, seventeen versts from Signakh,
where we had been invited to meet a large company of Kakhetian squires
and ladies at dinner. Our path, for some miles after leaving the
town, lay in the dry bed of a torrent. The remembrance of the wild,
beautiful scenery of that narrow gorge still fills me with delightful
emotions. It was the scene of so many pleasant rides--in the fierce
heat of the noonday sun, in the cool of evening, after midnight on
stormy nights, when we had returned homewards drenched with rain, our
path illumined only by dazzling flashes of lightning. As we picked
our way among the stones we met many a courteous gentleman, most of
them clad in the same Circassian garb as ourselves, but not a few,
especially the older men, in the true national garb--a short tunic,
with long flaps of cloth hanging from the shoulders; a dress said to
resemble the ancient Polish costume. Each raised his tall papakh of
Astrakhan fur, and, with graceful bow, saluted us, after the manner of
the country, with the word Gamardjwéba, which is, being interpreted,
"I wish thee the victory," to which we answered Gaguimardjos--"May
God grant thee the victory." These salutations are as eloquent as a
dozen volumes of history. I never heard them without thinking of the
sad but glorious past of the Georgian kingdom, nobly holding its own,
unaided, and witnessing for Christ and His Cross against all the hosts
of Islam, performing prodigies of valour that would have added to
the fame of Greece or Rome. God grant thee the victory, brave Georgia!
Emerging from the glen, we joined the post road at Anaga, and our
impatient horses set off at a gallop. On we sped through the well-kept
vineyards of a Russian capitalist, Count Sheremetiev, who threatens to
ruin all the poor squires of the district by selling his wines under
cost price. At a little village, about half-way between Signakh and
Bakurtsikhe, two of us had far outstripped the rest, and were racing
neck to neck when my companion's horse cast a shoe; so leaving him at
a roadside smithy, I went on alone. The fierce summer sun stood high
in the blue arch of heaven; on my left were vine-clad crags; to the
right, beyond the river, rose the white peaks of the mountain wall
between me and Europe. But I thought not of Europe. I forgot kindred,
country, humanity--everything. My horse and I were one, and we were
merged in that great, living ocean of life--our mother earth. My pulse
beat in harmony with the heart of Nature herself, keeping time with
the rippling rills, the whisper of the wandering airs to the leaves
of the trembling trees. I had entered a blissful Nirvana, in which
all consciousness of self was swallowed up in the world's soul.
I had ridden half a mile beyond the point whence I should have ascended
by a bridle-path to our host's house, before the cool shade of a cliff
aroused me from my state of forgetfulness. It was on the summit of
this cliff that my friends had recently met their tenants to discuss
some little differences that had arisen between them. Honest folk
do not like law-courts--especially Russian law-courts--so the good
Kakhetians decided to settle their dispute in the old-fashioned,
orthodox manner. A couple of horses were killed, and a good many
men on either side were pretty severely hacked and bruised; but the
landlords came off victorious. They, nevertheless, agreed to grant
certain concessions to the farmers, so all left the field of battle
delighted with one another. It is only just to say that this case was
an exceptional one. The relations between the gentry and peasantry
are excellent; they are on terms of such affectionate familiarity
that the latter always address their prince by his pet name.
Soon after noon we were all enjoying the hospitality of our
friend. When I say hospitality, I am not using the word in its
conventional sense; a Georgian displays towards his guest such courtesy
and kindness as are unknown among European peoples. Other friends soon
arrived, and at three o'clock, the usual dinner-hour, a score of us
sat down to dine in a shady arbour on the hillside. The dishes were
purely Oriental; rich pilavi (rice cooked with fruits, pistachio nuts,
&c.), shishlik (a choice cut of mutton roasted on a silver skewer over
a yard long, on which it is served up), and many another delicacy,
the thought of which makes my mouth water even now. The wine deserves
special mention. Kakheti has one of the finest soils in the world
for grape-growing, and any kind of wine, including fine champagne,
can be produced there. Unfortunately, the people in general have
not yet become acquainted with the methods by which wine has to be
"manipulated" in order to make it at once agreeable to a European
palate. Some of the best brands are not, however, open to this
objection, and are largely sold in Petersburg and Moscow, but they
are not so well known as they deserve to be. Merchants discourage
the introduction of new wines, as our Australian and South African
fellow-subjects know to their cost; but the day will undoubtedly come
when Caucasian vintages will be known and appreciated.
The drinking habits of the Georgians are interesting. A toastmaster
(tolumbash) is always chosen, and it is his duty to propose the
health of each guest in turn. To those who do not drain their glasses
before the time for the next toast has arrived, the tolumbash cries
Alaverdi! to which the laggard replies, Yakhsheol, and immediately
finishes the draught, in order to escape the penalty of swallowing a
large hornful of liquor at a breath. These words are of Tatar origin,
and commemorate a brave Tatar named Alaverdi, who fell in a battle
between the Georgians and Persians. The glasses contain a quarter
of a pint, and the stranger who sits down with a score of friends
is somewhat apprehensive as to the condition in which he will leave
the table. Luckily, the wine is nothing but pure grape-juice, and a
person with a tolerably strong head can dispose of two or three quarts
of it without feeling much the worse. Each toast is accompanied by the
singing of a grand old song called Mraval djamier ghmerthma inebos (May
God grant thee many years), to which the person thus honoured must sing
the reply, Madlobeli vart (I thank you). I have transcribed the song
in the Appendix. The ladies drink water scarcely coloured with wine.
Our dinner lasted more than two hours, and concluded with some
miscellaneous toasts, among which those of England and her Queen were
received with the greatest enthusiasm. Then, after tea, the guests
amused themselves with music and dancing, and nightfall found us all,
young and old, chasing one another about on the hillside in the games
of cat-and-mouse and blindman's buff. It was past midnight before we
retired to rest; some of us lay on the low, carpet-covered takhti,
or divans, which in Georgia replace beds, while those who preferred
it slept out on the green, wrapped up in their cloaks.
It had been arranged that we should start for the Alazana on the
following morning at four o'clock, in order to escape the terrible
midday heat of the low-lying plains by the river-side; but when we
rose we found that a couple of the horses had disappeared, and this
delayed us for two or three hours. At length we started, and, waving
farewells to all our good friends at Bakurtsikhe, we proceeded down
the long slope to the plain. There were six of us, besides a servant,
and we were armed to the teeth, after the manner of the country, with
daggers, pistols, swords, and rifles--not an unnecessary precaution,
for we saw ploughmen with a double-barrelled gun slung over the
shoulder, and sword and dagger at the girdle, while a man stood at
the end of the furrow ready to give the alarm. These fertile lands are
only half tilled. The wild Lesghian marauders come down upon the farms,
and steal all that can be carried away, and in the event of a war they
would simply burn up the whole country to the very gates of Tiflis.
It was a weary journey down to the river-bank, and we did not reach
the ferry until noon. The ferryman lives in a hut a good way from
the river, and it was only after firing half a dozen shots in the
air that we succeeded in attracting his attention. That half-hour
of waiting among the reeds, with the sun right overhead, was the
warmest half-hour I ever spent. At length the ferry-boat, a long
tree-trunk with the inside burnt out of it, came across the stream,
and we took our saddles and bridles and laid them in it. The horses
had, of course, to swim, and it was a long and difficult task to get
them all over. The current is very strong, and it was a subject for
congratulation that none of them were carried away by it. Excepting at
the ferry, the banks are so steep that it is impossible to land. When
all had safely reached the other side we lay down under the shade of
the trees, and lunched off cucumbers and coarse bread, washed down
by the white Kakhetian wine, of which we carried a full sheepskin.
The hottest part of our day's work was over; instead of burnt,
shadowless plains we should now have the sunless forest to ride
through until we reached our halting-place for the night. But we well
knew that we should not be in clover for the rest of the day, for we
had often been told that this wood was infested by a horse-fly of a
very malignant character, and as we rode along the northward path
we had an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the insect in
question. Within a mile of the bank we were surrounded by swarms of
them, and the horses, becoming more and more restless, at last went
perfectly mad with pain, while the blood dripped plentifully from their
flanks. To think of holding them in by bit and bridle was out of the
question, the only thing to be done was to let them gallop ahead and to
keep a sharp look-out for the many boughs that overhung the scarcely
perceptible track. Although Georgia is not in the tropics, this was a
truly tropical forest with all its luxuriant and beautiful vegetation;
walnut and other fancy woods abound, but they are allowed to fall
and rot unutilized; the undergrowth on either hand is so thick as to
be impenetrable; on all sides are masses of strange, bright flowers,
making the air heavy with perfume, and birds of dazzling plumage sit
chattering on every tree.
About an hour before sunset we reached the river Kabalo, a swift,
shallow mountain stream, which we forded, and then rode up a fine
glade to the encampment of my friends' Tatar herdsmen. About a score
of families live there all the summer in large tents, which are not
altogether devoid of comfort; in the interior may be seen carpeted
divans, gold and silver ornaments are not uncommon, and the copper
household utensils are thoroughly artistic in shape and beautifully
engraved. We dismounted at the chief man's tent, and, lying down on
the greensward, waited impatiently for dinner. The fare was abundant
and good, as was to be expected in a country so rich in game and fish,
and we slaked our thirst with cool kumiss (fermented mare's milk). The
Tatars are fine, bold-looking fellows; there is in their faces a
look of wild freedom that is extremely attractive to one who has
spent the most of his life in cities. I believe that if I had stayed
a week or two in that camp on the Kabalo, I should have been content
to renounce civilized life altogether. A very houri, a gazelle of the
wilderness, a sixteen-year old maiden in red tunic and wide trousers,
with long dark hair in countless tiny braids and pretty little white
bare feet and ankles, cast timid glances in our direction, and lovely,
languorous eyes said as plainly as possible, "Fly to the desert! fly
with me" ... and many other things which the curious reader may find
recorded in the works of the late Mr. Thos. Moore.
At nightfall we rode away, accompanied by a few Tatars, to visit
the large herds of horses and cattle which feed near here, and
then proceeded to the little cluster of cottages where the Georgian
farm-labourers live, about a couple of miles higher up the river. We
were received by the steward, a Greek from Cilicia, and after chatting
merrily over our tea for a few hours, we spread our burkas on the
ground and slept as well as the clouds of fierce mosquitoes would allow
us to do, under the starlit sky, lulled by the music of the stream.
About an hour before dawn the cold aroused us all, and after a
bath in the icy waters of the Kabalo, and a hasty breakfast, we
visited the farm-buildings. Tobacco is the chief commodity produced,
but its cultivation is at present rather unprofitable; I saw three
hundred bales of the finest leaves of last year's growth lying in
the store unsold; it is quite equal to Turkish, and can be bought at
a ridiculously low price, but it is not yet known in Europe, even in
Russia "Batumskii tabak" has only recently been introduced, although it
is far superior to that which is grown on the Don. Georgian landowners
cannot afford to push the sale of their wares in Europe, but I am sure
that if English firms would send out buyers they would not regret it,
unless they dealt with the wily Armenian middle-man instead of the
Georgian producer. The fear of the Lesghian robber-bands prevents any
great outlay of capital in the development of such a district, and,
indeed, nobody in Georgia has much capital to spare, so the greater
part of the estate I am speaking of, hundreds of square miles in
extent, is a pathless forest.
By eight o'clock we were in the saddle. The path rises through thick
woodlands to the summit of a hill crossed by a narrow, rocky pass
which has an unpleasant reputation as being the haunt of brigands;
only a few weeks before, a party of travellers had been attacked there,
two of their number were wounded, and they were all relieved of their
purses, jewellery, and arms. We were within half a mile of the top when
we perceived a Lesghian prowling about a little in advance of us. We
halted, unslung our fire-arms and loaded, then extending for attack,
as far as the nature of of the country would allow, we went forward
at a quick walking pace. We soon caught sight of three more Lesghians,
but this was evidently the whole force, for they contented themselves
with looking at us from a distance, and seeing that the odds were
in our favour, they galloped away into the depths of the forest,
and left us to pursue our journey unmolested.
Climbing to the summit of the hill, we enjoyed a splendid view of
the Alazana valley from the opposite side to that whence we had been
accustomed to see it; behind us rose the white peaks of the Caucasus,
looking very near in the clear morning air. A little way off the blue
smoke rising from among the trees showed us where our friends, the
highwaymen, were cooking their breakfast. To the eastward, almost at
the foot of the hill, lay the Russian military colony of Mikhailovka,
to which we descended.
Mikhailovka is fairly prosperous compared with other Russian
colonies in Transcaucasia, but to a European it does not seem an
Arcadia; it is one wide, straggling street of poor, dirty-looking
farmhouses. The colonists have to struggle with fever and ague,
not to speak of Lesghians, and altogether do not seem to enjoy their
life very much. Mikhailovka is the point at which the military road
from Signakh turns to the eastward, and about five miles farther
on arrives at Lagodekh, the staff head-quarters of an army corps,
into which we rode about an hour before noon.
Lagodekh is a place of some size, with wide, clean streets and large
grassy squares, planted with fine trees, the houses are neat and
comfortable-looking. Swift mountain streams run through it and supply
delicious water. The public buildings comprise barracks, hospital,
stores, a fine church of red sandstone, a modest club-house, bazar,
&c. We made our way to the quarters of an officer of the 39th, whose
hospitality we enjoyed until evening. In spite of the terrible heat,
our host showed us everything worth seeing. The park is the great
attraction, it is beautifully kept, and contains a fine long avenue
of tall poplars; in the middle of it is a pavilion with the garrison
ball-room, and near the entrance may be seen a small cemetery where
there is a real, old-fashioned ghost, which, under the semblance of
a white lady carrying a cross, affrights the local Tommy Atkins every
year in the month of June. I commend this sprite to the attention of
the Psychical Research Society, and I am quite willing to proceed to
Lagodekh and spend a month there in investigating the matter--at the
Society's expense.
The troops suffer a good deal in the summer months, and there are
many casualties from apoplexy, dysentery, and other complaints.
Early in the afternoon we sat down to dinner, and did full justice to
the fare. My neighbour on the right was the brother of a charming lady
whom I had met in Tiflis, and it so happened that he had that very day
received from her a letter in which I was spoken of, for Englishmen are
rare birds in these lands. This gentleman had wandering proclivities
almost as strong as my own, and he informed me that he thought of
travelling overland by Merv to India, "where the English pay private
soldiers as much as the Russians pay a captain." After dinner we all
slept for an hour, and then, the heat having slightly diminished,
we started for Mikhailovka. A bear hunt was to take place on the
following day, and we were urgently pressed to stay and take part in
it, but we had to be back in Signakh within the next twenty-four hours,
and were therefore obliged to deny ourselves this pleasure.
Before we were clear of Lagodekh somebody had the unfortunate idea of
starting a wild gallop, but the spot was badly chosen, for a sudden
turn in the road brought us to a river with a wide, stony bed. The
leading horse threw his rider into the very middle of the stream,
I was deposited on a heap of big stones on the other side; all the
rest, warned by our mishap, escaped. It took over an hour to catch
the runaway horses, and when we reached Mikhailovka I felt as if
I had passed through a thrashing-mill, every bone was aching. Our
camping-ground was under a large oak-tree, behind a peasant's house,
and we lay there on the ground, a prey to the mosquitoes, until
early morning.
At half-past four we were in the saddle, and after a stirrup-cup
of Russian vodka, galloped down the smooth, well-kept military road
towards the Alazana, occasionally glancing back at the beautiful hill
country behind us. I felt all my many bruises with double force after
the night's rest, and it was as much as I could do to keep my seat, not
to speak of emulating the exploits of my companions, who were amusing
themselves with shots at the hares and feathered game with which the
country abounds. At length, at about eight o'clock, we reached the
Chiauri Bridge, a shaky-looking wooden structure. There is a wretched
little wine-shop, where we dismounted for breakfast. A fine fish of
fifteen pounds' weight, with some of the coarse, indiarubber-like
bread of the country, formed the solid part of the meal; I need not
say what the liquid part of it was; we emptied our sheepskin and then
fell back on mine host's supplies. The river, in summer at least,
is sluggish and dirty, and has an evil smell of decaying vegetable
matter, very suggestive of malarial fever; if our acquaintance with
the Alazana had been confined to this portion of it, we should have
been at a loss to understand the high praise which has been bestowed
on it by all the sweet singers of Rustaveli's land.
We spent a couple of hours in rest and refreshment, and then started
for home across the broad plain yellow with ripe grain. Noon saw us
begin the toilsome ascent of the hills of Signakh, and an hour later
we were lying on our balcony dreamily smoking cigarettes of Kartuban
tobacco, while we mentally retraced every step of our delightful
journey among the fair scenes which now lay spread at our feet.